


It's Hard To Be Intimidating When You Are Roughly The Size Of A Cat

by TheseusInTheMaze



Category: Youtube RPF, jacksepticeye, markiplier - Fandom
Genre: Gen, Transformation, dragon - Freeform, navel gazing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-02
Updated: 2018-10-02
Packaged: 2019-07-24 00:15:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,328
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16169675
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheseusInTheMaze/pseuds/TheseusInTheMaze
Summary: Marvin does some magic. Anti doesn't react the way everyone expects.





	It's Hard To Be Intimidating When You Are Roughly The Size Of A Cat

There were a whole bunch of events.

Rather convoluted events, truth be told - there was a lot of screaming, there was some fire, there was (naturally) some magic involved.

We don't need to get into that.

The end result was that Antiseptic, resident terror (in his own eyes) and pain in the ass (to everyone else) was no longer a roughly human shaped individual wielding a knife, but rather a good deal smaller individual, not even close to human shaped.

"I think we fucked up," said Jack, looking down into the circle.

"I dunno what you're talking about," said Chase.

Anti opened his mouth to swear at them... and a small jet of flame shot out.

All of the humans (and approximately human shaped things) clustered around the magic circle jerked back, and there was some more swearing.

"So he wasn't dangerous enough teleporting around," snapped Henrik, "now we have to worry about him breathing fire?"

"I can fix it," said Marvin, and there was the sound of hurried, desperate page turning. 

Anti tried to stalk to the edge of the small circle, and stopped when he met a crackling barrier that stung like static electricity.

Everyone looked a lot bigger from down here. 

He tried to call out again - cursing them all, cursing the place - and more jets of flame came flying out of his mouth.

There was more swearing, more backing up.

"He's gonna burn the goddamn house down," said Mark. 

"I could deal with this," said Wilford, and a shiver went down Anti's spine. 

He looked up into the face with the pink mustache, and his back arched, his eyes getting big.

He hissed like a teakettle. 

... he hadn't meant to do that.

He wasn't sure what he had meant to do, but it wasn't that. 

Wilford stared down at him, expression impassive, and then he hissed back. 

Anti scrabbled back, and he was _scrabbling_ now, like a cat on tile.

... he had more legs than he was used to, when it came down to it.

Um.

"I'll see if I can figure out how to fix him later," said Marvin, and Anti looked up at the magician, and hissed at him, louder this time.

That was supposed to be more swearing, but there didn't seem to be much he could do about it at present.

Now if only he could find a way to get out of this circle....

"Can you at least figure out some kind of magic to keep him from lighting the whole house on fire around our ears?"

Jack sounded faintly strained.

"I am completely out of magic," said Marvin, and he sounded either exhausted or angry - it could be hard to tell, behind that mask of his.

"I could be of some assistance," rumbled Dark, and Anti turned his head very quickly, to see his old... friend, standing there.

In this form, Anti could see the lines jumping around him, like a corrupted VHS tape.

It was clear that Dark didn't belong here, clear that Dark wasn't all here, wherever "here" happened to be.

His back was arching again, and he let out another little jet of flame.

"What kind of assistance are we talking about here?"

Jack sounded tired, but he always sounded tired when it came to these sorts of things.

"He won't set fire to anything I own," said Dark. "That is to say, it isn't a worry."

"No?"

Anti looked over at Jack's face, and there was _something_ going on there, although Anti didn't entirely understand it.

Humans faces tended to be difficult to read anyway, and now his eyes seemed to be set in different parts of his skull.

Which was also a new shape.

He had a tail now - it was lashing around behind him, and now he was aware that it was there, and he was tripping over it, flat on his stomach.

He had too many legs - he had been so mad about being changed into something, and now it was just dawning on him that he... well, he was something.

Something else.

"I'm going to keep him," said Dark, "for now. If anyone has any objections?"

"Don't hurt him," Jack said, and his tone was firm.

Anti rolled his eyes - or at least, he tried to.

They didn't move much, in this skull.

That was weird.

He growled, a long, drawn out sound, and all of the egos looked down at him, wearing a whole bunch of different expressions.

He couldn't read all of them, but he could at least... understand them, somewhat.

"I won't hurt him," said Dark, in a bored tone of voice.

Dark usually sounded bored, admittedly.

"I'm trusting you," said Jack. "If anything happens to him, I'll...."

"You'll," said Dark, and he was giving Jack a flat look - a flat enough look that Anti was a bit chilled.

"I'll be displeased," said Jack finally.

He looked nervous, but Dark had that effect on people, and people shaped things.

Anti was only a people shaped thing right now, wasn't he?

His tail lashed some more, and he tried to take a step forward, but no dice - he was all tangled up now, and it was a bit too confusing.

He made a frustrated noise, and rested his head on the floor.

He had a lot more neck than he was used to.

And then there was a feeling like "pop" - no sound, but the sensation - and the magic around the circle was dissipating. 

A pair of arms in a suit jacket came down, and a pair of impersonal hands were lifting him up around the middle.

His legs were dangling down, and that was immensely unpleasant.

He squirmed, trying to be let down, and then... his wings opened up.

Wait.

Wings.

He had _wings_?

He flapped them, and he squirmed, trying to get down, but no dice - Dark held him like a cat, over one shoulder, one hand on the back of Anti's neck, the other one right over Anti's tail.

"I'm not going to let you go," Dark said, in a bored tone of voice.

Anti watched the other egos retreat, as Dark walked off, presumably to his own room. 

Anti opened his mouth to give Dark a piece of his mind, and he thrashed, trying to get free. 

His claws caught in the weave of Dark's suit, and he could feel the threads being pulled loose.

"You realize I can replace that without any effort, right?"

Dark sounded almost amused, as he walked down the stairs, and further down.

They all lived together, in this great old house, but bits of it felt a bit... well, not to put too fine a point on it, they were added on to the rest of the house with some metaphorical chewing gum and play dough. 

Anti had examined it a few times, but it was made of a different sort of something than he was used to.

That was the annoying bit, wasn't it?

All of them were of some kind of mystical, magical bent, but they were all different _kinds_ of mystical, magical bent, which left them at a loss when it came to each other.

Wilford was... well, his madness was a bit like a bonfire; it was visible for miles around, it was hungry enough to eat you alive, and it would probably rage out of control at one point and do who even knew what. He could do things that were impossible; possibly, he was mad enough that it scared the universe into doing what he wanted. 

Dark was made of some malevolent entity, except there were _two_ people mixed into that, and he didn't seem to care, although he also didn't seem to care about anything, except getting what he wanted, whatever that was. His motives and actions were complicated and oblique, although it was clear that he had been human at one point.

Marvin did his own sort of magic - brought about by studying, making deals with some kinds of spirits that Anti didn't understand, except that it was all very fussy and complicated. Anti had offered Marvin power a few times, only to find himself reading through contracts that would have put most copyright lawyers to shame. 

And then there was Anti himself, who was from beyond the stars, who stole shapes when they worked for him, who used his own powers to manipulate and change the world the way he wanted, how he wanted.

Only maybe people had been getting sick of it, if they'd trapped him in a magic circle and done... well, all of this to him.

And Dark was still walking down steps.

How did they even _have_ this many steps - Anti was pretty sure that the house didn't have a sub-sub-sub basement, but they'd gone underground pretty early into this venture, and they were still going.

Anti could always find the sky - he could hear the stars singing to him, until he was underground.

"I know that you're angry," Dark said, "although I can't understand why. That shape at least looks interesting, as opposed to walking around wearing Jack's face."

Anti snarled at Dark, and tried to say something cutting.

Another little jet of flame, and a piece of Dark's hair caught fire, the smoke drifting up towards the ceiling.

It lit up the stairs, and... oh, okay, yeah, no.

They were made of stone, and they were possibly older than the country, let alone the house.

"I'm taking you to a different dimension," said Dark, possibly feeling Anti freeze up. "I don't want you setting the whole house on fire."

Anti shrugged, or at least tried to.

It was a lot more expansive, with the leathery wings attached to his back. 

He wouldn't set the house on fire - he lived here too, and anyway, bits of it were warded against fire.

Some of the stuff in some of the rooms was stuff that he never wanted to let out in the first place.

They entered a room, and the door creaked open like something out of a horror movie in the seventies. 

There were even cobwebs.

Wow.

It was really like being on a movie set.

Dark finally - _finally_ \- let Anti down, and Anti shook all over, his wings making a leathery rattling sort of noise, his head turning back and forth on his long neck as he looked through the place.

It was old - it was old, and it was full of junk. 

So much junk, although none of it looked particularly flammable.

His tail lashed, and he hissed, looking up at Dark, as Dark turned the light on.

Dark raised an eyebrow. 

"This room is just for... safekeeping," he told Anti, and then he was grinning, just a bit.

Anti licked his lips, and found his tongue long and sinuous. 

He could taste the heat of the air in the room. 

It was an odd sensation, to be sure, and his long tail lashed behind him. 

"I'm going to leave you here," said Dark. "I'll take you out in the morning. Do you understand?"

_"I understand_ ," Anti tried to say, but all that came out was a rising and falling trill.

"Nod or shake your head," said Dark. 

Anti nodded, although it felt very silly, with his head perched at the end of the long neck.

Dark absently patted Anti on the top of the head, and then he was getting up, stretching. 

"I'm going to find you some food and water," he told Anti, "and then I'm going to go to my own room. I'll come get you in the morning."

Another nod.

Anti didn't like the idea of being stuck down in this junk room, but it was better than being locked in a cage.

At least he could wander around in here.

He sighed, a long, drawn out sound, and he just... sat.

He had too many limbs, and everything seemed to be going _strange_ , but at least he was still more or less himself.

He doubted there was anything that could change him from being himself. 

* * * 

Dark left Anti a bowl of water and a plate of some kind of meat - Anti didn't investigate it too closely. At least Dark probably wasn't feeding him anything that was too... questionable, or dangerous.

Anti didn't _need_ to eat, as far as he knew - he could go without food, when he was in his Jack shaped form, and outside of that form, he didn't really have a body that needed much to begin with.

But in this form... well. 

He lapped up the water, and it turned to steam even as it went down his throat - his insides were that hot.

The meat was odd - it didn't taste right, until he gave an experimental bit of flame, at which point it became... at least, it was edible. 

He curled up in a ball on an old bit of carpeting, his eyes sliding shut, his wings drawn around him.

He wasn't used to being able to curl like this, but this body had a sinuous spine, and he could probably have touched almost all of himself with his mouth, which was an odd thing to realize.

But he wasn't going to think about that right now.

He didn't need to sleep in his ordinary body, but right now... well, what was tugging at his senses felt an awful lot like sleep, and he was going to at least enjoy that.

* * *

Anti woke up, which was a bit of a novel experience - he knew how to sleep, to be sure, and part of sleeping was waking up - but still.

This body was very good at sleep - without even consulting him, it stretched, back arching, talons (he had talons! Or were they claws?) extending like a cat’s.

He yawned, and his jaw was wide enough that he could probably eaten an entire orange in one gulp, like a thylacine.

The store room was still dark, and he was still alone.

Hm.

He could try to do some kind of assessment, right? Maybe try to figure out how to make his body do what he wanted it to do, more or less.

At least there wasn’t anyone around to laugh at him, right?

* * *

Anti practiced walking.

Walking on four legs wasn’t as easy as it seemed - keeping track of all of those limbs got confusing, and it took effort to remember what went there.

The tail worked as a good rudder, and it helped him keep his balance, more or less, but it was still _there_ , and it felt like one more thing to keep track of.

The wings he kept folded, right up against his back, and he only extended them a few times, to test it out.

It was an odd sensation, growing the equivalent of two new arms. 

He hadn’t _felt_ himself change, thank all the things on the outer rims.

That might have made him as crazy as Wilford, and he didn’t know if he would have been able to handle that.

But here he was now, picking his way across the floor of the old store room, with increasing confidence.

It had been like this, when he’d first landed in the Jack shaped body - that had taken getting used to as well, although it hadn’t been as confusing as this was.

Or had it been?

Anti was blessed - or cursed - with a short memory. 

Maybe it was part of him being what he was - he wasn’t usually made up of meat and bone, so there were only so many places for memories to go.

So here he was.

He stood there, his tail lashing, and he tried to let out a little jet of flame, intentionally.

It was like coughing something up, except it wasn’t at all; he couldn’t think of what it was like, except itself.

He could see things around him - bits of old pottery, the rusted remains of silverware sets, metal rollerskates and broken lamps.

It was like the junk room of any other big house, except that it had been going on for who even knew how long.

Hmm… could Anti fly was the next question.

He _did_ have wings, after all.

Dark didn’t seem to be coming, and Anti’s teleporting ability was gone, so there wasn’t much else to do, was there?

He flexed his wings, and he looked for something to jump off of.

* * *

It took some time, to scale the dresser. 

Well, scaling it didn’t actually take much time. 

He figured out how to jump, more or less; the muscles in his haunches were very strong, it turned out, and he could clear the dresser without much effort.

It was staying on the dresser that proved difficult - staying on top of it, not skidding off, not overshooting and hitting the wall….

Some time had passed by the time he was finally on top of it, and he was panting, his chin pressing into the wood.

Okay.

So this was more complicated than he thought.

Maybe it would have been simpler to let the body do all the thinking - he could sense it doing that, sometimes. 

That was part of having a body - it called just as many shots as you did.

That was one reason why he’d cut Jack’s throat, when he’d taken over that form - it was easier to work with when certain things were some flavor of dead.

Although that was probably not going to be an option, with this body - it was too complicated for Anti to try to operate on his own. 

But flying.

Flying seemed very complicated.

He could do it - he knew he could do it, he could figure out the physics for it, more or less, and he had the wings for it, so why not try?

He stood on the edge of the dresser, his claws biting into the wood, and he spread his wings.

And then he jumped, his wings outstretched.

* * *

Anti didn’t fly.

He glided, for almost a foot, and then he tried flapping, and he plunged down like a stone.

Well.

That was a bust.

Maybe he just needed to find a higher place to jump off of.

There was an armoire leaning against the wall in one corner, its door hanging crazily off of the hinge, like a lady wearing a short dress with her legs wide open.

That might do….

* * *

Anti couldn’t jump this one - he climbed it, claw over claw, and he clung to the top, looking down. 

He wasn’t sure how _big_ he was, when it came down to it - he must not have been very big, if Dark could carry him so easily, but at the very least, Dark had needed both hands to hold him, which meant something, didn’t it?

Anti spread his wings, looking down, and he took a deep breath.

Okay.

He jumped.

* * *

More gliding this time - he didn’t dare flap - and then there was a bar of light across the floor, and Anti was so distracted that his mind took over, and he fell, ass over teakettle, landing on the floor in a heap.

“Oh my,” said a familiar voice. “I do seem to be interrupting something.”

There was the sound of footsteps, and then Anti was being lifted up.

He blinked up into a pink mustache, and a pair eyes that were overly bright.

Welp.

He tried to say something like “put me down,” but all that came out was an angry chittering.

“It can’t be good to keep you cooped up here,” said Wilford, and then he was just… carrying Anti like a baby, cuddling Anti up to his chest.

Anti didn’t have much of a choice in the matter - he was being held in place, and as he squirmed, he was pressed closer. 

He debated using some of his own flames, but… no, that wouldn’t work, not with Wilford. 

Wilford was a bit too crazy to care.

Anti had seen the guy take a knife to the gut and not react.

Anti had been the one holding the knife, even - that had been a shock.

“Let’s get you into the fresh air,” Wilford said. “It’ll be good for you.”

Anti sighed, and he let himself be carried, because what else was he supposed to do?

* * *

Wilford’s room had a patio, and Wilford set Anti on the bed, looking him over.

There was a great mirror on the ceiling - of course there was - and Anti stared up at himself, uncomprehending.

He was a dragon.

Not some kind of dragon-like reptile, or a dinosaur.

A full on dragon.

There was the ridge of spikes down his back, there was his lashing tail, there were his wings. 

His face was pointed, and he had hooked horns at the top of his head.

He blew out a gust of flame, and it filled the room with the smell of burning swamp gas.

“Well,” said Wilford, and then he was reaching out, petting Anti along the base of one horn. “Well.”

_Well what?_ was what Anti wanted to say, but all that came out was more chittering.

“I’m not sure how Marvin did this,” said Wilford. “It’s impressive, though. He can’t usually do proper magic.”

Anti grumbled.

He’d offered the stupid magician a chance to do real magic, too - he’d even offered to make a deal!

But the guy had said no, the wuss.

And now Anti was a dragon.

Not even a proper dragon - he wouldn’t have been able to devastate a town, unless it was made of building blocks and Legos. 

He was the size of a cat, or maybe a weasel. 

His body was long and sinuous, admittedly, and he could probably fit into any tight place that he wanted - the air vents looked _spacious_ at this point - but still.

He glared at his reflection, and then he nipped at Wilford’s fingers, as the man tried to scratch him under the chin.

“None of that,” Wilford said sharply, and then he was holding Anti’s muzzle closed with both hands, looking into Anti’s eyes. 

And Anti… changed.

Or maybe Anti didn’t change, but his _mind_ did, and for a horrible, gut wrenching moment, he was a different shape; a shape he didn’t understand, a shape that wasn’t his actual shape, but a shape nonetheless.

The moment was gone, quick as a flash, and he was his own shape again.

“Being a dragon isn’t so bad now, is it?”

Wilford’s voice was still jovial, friendly, but it sent a little shock of anxiety through Anti.

Anti just shook his head.

“That’s what I thought,” said Wilford, and he scratched Anti on the head, right around the horns.

… okay, so that did feel a lot better than it had a right to feel, but still.

Principle of the thing and whatnot.

Anti did his best to be standoffish, but eventually the body won out, and the body wanted nothing so much as to curl up in the middle of the bed and nap.

He did so, because the body was calling most of the shots at this point. 

He might as well listen to it - at least, until he got his own body back, right?

* * *

Anti was woken up by talking.

“He looks so peaceful like this.”

Henrik’s voice was, as always, thick with his accent, and it was enough to make Anti want to roll his eyes, keeping his tail over his nose, his wings twitching just a bit. 

“It is nice not to have to deal with his usual distractions, I must admit.”

“Still. I want to examine him.”

“Do you have any experience with examining animals?”

“He’s not an animal,” came Henrik’s response. “He’s not… he’s not human, either, but he’s not an animal.”

“Still,” said Wilford, and his tone sounded downright solicitous, which was eerie, “do you know how to deal with something like him?”

“I’m sure I’ll manage,” said Henrik. “Should I wake him up, before I pick him up? Maybe he’ll want to follow along behind me.”

“I don’t think he’d be able to keep up with you,” said Wilford. “You should just pick him up.”

“He has as much of a right to bodily autonomy as the rest of us,” said Henrik, and now his voice was stiff. “Even if he’s not human shaped. He’s still the same person, just… not the same shape as I am used to.”

“If you say so,” said Wilford. 

He didn’t sound like he wanted to argue, which was good. 

When Wilford wanted to dig his heels in about something… oh, but he dug them in.

“Antiseptic,” said Henrik, and Anti made a big show of sitting up, stretching all four legs, then looking up at Henrik in what he hoped was an unimpressed expression.

“Well,” said Henrik, “it’s good to see you up and about. Are you ready for an examination?”

Anti missed his eyebrows.

He would have raised one, if he could - in his regular body, he was still mastering the skill. 

Human bodies (and human shaped bodies) were complicated.

Instead, he tilted his head.

“I want to make sure that your body is in working order,” said Henrik. “When you first arrived amongst us, in your former shape, I examined you then.” 

That had been strange - Anti had still been getting used to having a body that had things like nerves and skin, and then there had been this strange guy poking and prodding him.

"Now," said Henrik, and he crossed his arms, looking Anti up and down critically, "I don't think you can keep up with me, with your legs as short as they are. May I be permitted to carry you?"

That was nice - being asked was nice.

Anti gave another awkward, jerking nod, and then Henrik was lifting him up. 

Henrik's claws scrabbled on the air - this was unsettling, and he very much didn't like it.

But then he was being draped over Henrik's shoulder, and he was watching Wilford.

Wilford smiled at him with that complicated face of his, and Anti's tail twitched.

"I still think we shouldn't have used the magic," said Henrik, although it was clear he was talking to himself. "It would have been simpler to just use chemical sedation, or something similar."

Anti snarled. 

He didn't want to be drugged.

Henrik jiggled him, and Anti's claws dug into Henrik's lab coat. 

"You're more manageable like this," Henrik said, "but it still feels odd."

Anti made another chittering noise, and then he was... wriggling, and he was climbing, up Henrik's coat, to sit on Henrik's shoulder.

He draped himself like a feather boa, looking about. 

Yeah, this was much better.

He could see everything, and it was a lot less precarious.

His claws dug into the coat, and Henrik made an annoyed noise.

"You're going to ruin my coat," Henrik grumbled, but he reached up to pet Anti under the chin.

Anti tolerated it, because clearly it was important to Henrik to be able to do it.

They walked into Henrik's small office, and Anti's tail lashed, as he leaned against Henrik, his cheek pressed against Henrik's.

It was quiet, which was nice, and when he was pressed this close, he could feel the blood rushing through Henrik's veins.

Anti wanted... what did he want?

He wanted heat.

It wasn't so much that he was cold as that he just wanted heat, which was odd, considering how hot his insides were.

He was actually _aware_ of how hot his insides were, which was an odd sensation, to be sure.

He sighed, and he began to relax, finally.

"Well," said Henrik, "I can't examine you up there, can I?"

Anti made an annoyed noise, but he let himself be lifted up and off of Henrik's shoulders, let himself be placed on the exam table, his tail still swishing.

Henrik absently patted him on the head, and Anti resisted the urge to nuzzle into it.

This body wanted heat, and it wanted affection.

It seemed that the ideal situation for him would have been in a cuddle pile of a whole bunch of other dragons, all as warm as he was. 

That was weird.

It was weird to have a body that wanted things, but then again, bodies always wanted things, didn't they?

It would be simpler, if he could think of a way to make this one want fewer things, but that required rules that he didn't entirely understand. 

When there was fire involved, it helped to be careful.

"Now," said Henrik, "let's weigh you...."

* * * 

It was a whole series of small indignities which were, admittedly... well, undignified, which was faintly unpleasant, but he could live with that.

He had his temperature taken - in his mouth, because there were certain indignities he wouldn't put up with, four legged, two legged, whatever. 

He had his lungs listened to, his pulse taken.

He even lit a little cotton ball on fire for Henrik, so that the soot could be studied.

He gave inky footprints, he was measured from the tip of his tail to the tip of his muzzle.

His teeth were examined - Henrik took a mold, which was disgusting, and it took a lot of self control not to bite Henrik after that.

The body wanted to bite Henrik, even as Anti glowered at him.

"I know," Henrik said, and he patted Anti absently on the head. "I'm the worst. Now... can you fly?"

Anti gave another complicated, exaggerated shrug.

He probably needed to find a simpler way to communicate - maybe he could find a way to write with his mouth, or to grasp a pen of some kind in his claws, although his claws were pretty useless as grasping implements. 

"Do you want to try flying?"

Another shrug.

"Well," said Henrik, and for the first time he looked less than clinical, almost excited, "we _do_ possess a rather large back yard. Nothing should try to eat you - not with your fire breath. And as small as you are, you won't attract undo attention."

Anti growled, his back arching.

He didn't like being reminded that he was small.

Hernik ran a hand along his back, thumb passing over the ridges on his spine, and Anti's back arched involuntarily. 

It just... felt a lot nicer than it had a right to feel.

His eyes slid closed, and his skin shivered like a horse with a fly on its skin.

"Are you alright?"

Henrik sounded worried.

Anti gave a nod.

"Do you want to try flying outside?"

In answer, Anti took a flying leap, and he climbed up Henrik's arm like it was a branch of a tree.

Maybe his claws dug in more than they needed to, but hey.

He had a reputation to keep up.

* * *

"Hey, Henrik," called Chase, "I like your new fashion accessory!"

Anti's tail twitched, and he looked over his shoulder, to see Chase grinning at the both of them.

It took effort for Anti not to bristle.

It wasn't that he particularly disliked Chase - well, not any more than he disliked anyone else.

He didn't like Chase much, because Chase wasn't any _fun_.

The guy was always moping after his ex and his kids - Anti didn't need that in his life.

"It's the latest craze in Berlin," Henrik said, and he cackled.

Anti squirmed, spreading his wings to keep from losing his balance, and then he reared up, his back claws digging into Henrik's shoulders, his upper set resting on top of Henrik's head.

"I swear to god, Anti, if you make me bleed from the scalp, I will throw you off of me, and you are on your own," said Henrik in a warning tone of voice.

Anti got the point, and settled back around Henrik's shoulders, one wing still extended.

Henrik's shoulders settled under the weight of Anti, and he reached back, to rub under Anti's neck.

"That wasn't very nice," said Chase, and he was following after the two of them now.

Anti watched Chase with a resigned expression, as the three of them made their way into the backyard, which had a tall wooden fence, and big, old trees crowding along the sides of it. 

"So," said Henrik, "we're going to help Anti figure out if he can fly."

"What's to keep him from flying away?"

"There's nothing that keeps him from running away, when he doesn't have wings," Henrik pointed out. "Same sort of thing. Anyway, would it be so bad, if he ran away?"

Anti wasn't sure how he felt about all of this - about being talked about like he wasn't here, about them not caring if he left.

Part of his job around here was to make things... _interesting_.

Maybe he wasn't working hard enough, although then again, it was hard to make things interesting when he was this small.

"What about hawks?"

"I'd like to see a hawk try," said Henrik. "He can breathe fire, remember?"

"True," said Chase, as Henrik gently set Anti down. "Although that opens up a whole different can of worms."

Anti walked around the yard, the grass tickling his belly.

It was all very dry. 

"What can of worms?"

"What if he starts a wildfire?"

"... shit," said Henrik. "I hadn't thought of that."

"I'll be right back," said Chase, and then he was back in the house.

Good.

Anti didn't want to deal with the guy.

"So," said Henrik, "are you going to try to fly?"

Anti shrugged, and he indicated one of the big trees with his tail, his wings flaring out.

"You want me to take you over there?"

A nod. 

"You can walk yourself, y'know," said Henrik, crossing his arms across his chest.

Anti made a frustrated noise, and he walked over to Henrik, rearing up and putting his claws in Henrik's leg.

"Alright, alright," said Henrik, and he leaned down, lifting up Anti, cradling him almost like a baby.

Anti squirmed to get comfortable, until he was being held up to the tree. 

"Here you go," said Henrik. "Maybe try not to leave our backyard if you can help it, hm?"

Anti flicked his tail, and he dug his claws into the bark of the tree, beginning to climb up it. 

Okay.

He'd get to the very top of it, and then he'd jump off, and he'd fly.

That would work, right?

He could make it work.

He had been in other bodies that could fly, albeit more reliant on magic than physics.

Inasmuch as this body relied on physics.

Anti suspected that there was some magic involved in all of this, although he wasn't too sure at this point.

He was at the very tallest branch at this point, and he was breathing heavily, looking down.

Oh wow.

That was a long way.

Okay.

He could do this.

He waggled his butt, to dig his claws further into the bark - his body knew to do that, even if he didn't, not really - and then he was spreading his wings, feeling the wind behind him.

Okay.

He could do this.

He was going to do this.

He took a deep breath, and then he jumped.

He glided.

He glided, and he gave a flap, which sent him straight up - straight up, and... into the roof.

He could hear Henrik yelling something, but he couldn't understand it, over the wind.

He was circling over the house now, and he could see for miles, all around.

There sure was a lot of... well, everything.

His tail swished with something irritation, and he veered off course, almost heading into a different yard.

Okay, no, that wasn't what he wanted.

He let the body take over - let it glide the way it wanted to glide, let it flap when it needed to flap.

It was very quiet, apart from the whistle of the wind.

The sun beat down on him, and that was where the fire inside of him came from, wasn't it?

The sunlight, trapped inside of him, and he was somehow a creature of the sunlight.

This was the element that he belonged in - he belonged in the air, not on the ground.

He was clumsy, when he was relying on gravity, but up here, he could swoop and dive, moving like he was swimming through the air.

It didn't entirely make sense, but he threw back his head and let loose a plume of fire, because he could.

He looked down, and he could just make out Henrik - a small speck in white.

There was another body next to Henrik, probably Chase.

Oh well.

That wasn't something for Anti to worry about.

He let himself go down, slowly, making his way towards the yard again.

It was nice, to be away from the pull of gravity… he could just let this body take over.

It was more direct than a human body - it had what it wanted, and it pursued it. 

This body knew what it wanted, and there wasn’t any of the guilt that Anti associated with human shaped bodies.

He was just...in a body.

He could lose himself in this body, he could just be a dragon.

It would be simpler, at the very least.

As he came down from the sky, he caught sight of Henrik, and then… there was Chase.

There was Chase, holding a bucket of sand.

So the idiot thought that Anti would _actually_ start a wildfire.

It wasn’t as if Anti wanted to kill the whole city.

He had made a promise, lo those years ago when he’d first stolen a simulacrum of Jack’s body, and now they were still doubting that he’d keep it? 

Anti’s tail thrashed in annoyance, and he went off course.

Shit.

His mind was taking over for the body, and that was making it unstable.

He nearly fell over, and he growled, and steered further up, up, until… he was on the roof.

He was next to one of the turrets specifically - this was an old house, and it had turrets.

Anti wasn’t sure how it was that they’d managed to afford this place, let alone find it, but here they were, in it. 

Or on it, in his case.

He could hear Henrik shouting, but he ignored it, curling up.

He wouldn’t worry about anything right now - he’d sit up here, by himself, and he’d relax into the cool wind, the fire inside of him burning hotly, the inside of his head quiet.

He was, for the time being, just a very small dragon. 

He didn’t need to worry about anything else. 

* * *

Anti was woken up by the sound of a window opening. 

He looked over, to see Chase cautiously climbing out of the window, to sit on the roof.

“I’m sorry you insulted me,” said Chase.

Anti made an inquiring noise - how would Chase have figured that out.

“I know… I know you’re very proud,” said Chase, and he sounded faintly regretful. “I shouldn’t have insulted you by suggesting that you’d break a promise.

… well.

Anti was genuinely touched, which was unexpected.

“I know that a sudden change can be scary,” Chase added. “I’ve never had a change like _that_ obviously, for a whole bunch of different reasons, but… well, I can get it being scary. And I know you’ve been taking it very easily. Maybe it’s just easier for you, since you’re not exactly used to being one shape all the time, which I totally get.”

Huh.

Maybe the dude had a bit more insight than he let on.

“But still,” said Chase. “I figured… I was worried. I know how easy it is to just set stuff on fire around here, and I’ve seen, like, cartoons where dragons sneeze and end up setting things on fire.”

… okay, fair play. 

Anti couldn’t really argue with that one either, as much as he’d have liked to.

Damn Chase, being fair and even handed.

Anti crowded closer to Chase, until his chin was on Chase’s thigh.

Chase looked down at him, surprised, and then he brought a hand down, to pet along Anti’s back, gently.

“Your skin feels a lot different,” he said, his voice quiet. “How does it feel, to you?”

Anti looked at Chase with both eyes.

“... right. You can’t talk. Of course. Sorry ‘bout that.”

Anti made an amused noise, puffing smoke out of his nostrils.

“Considering the fact that you can just make fire come out of yourself, it feels like I shouldn’t be able to just touch you,” Chase added, as one of his big hands stroked across Anti’s sides. “Unless you work like a lighter, and something makes a spark happen, and you just have a whole bunch of gas inside of you. Although that would have it’s own problems.”

Anti snorted. 

“Yeah, you wouldn’t want to be like a swamp dragon, in a Terry Pratchett novel,” said Chase.

Anti had no idea who Chase was talking about, but he made a vaguely encouraging noise.

He liked being talked to, like this.

Or at least, the dragon liked being talked to, and Anti was practically just along for the ride.

“They explode a lot,” Chase said. “They’ve got such a build up of gas inside of them that they end up just… well, exploding.”

That sounded pretty stupid.

Chase’s fingers were stroking along the bases of Anti’s horns, and Anti was making a contented noise, his eyes beginning to slide shut.

“You seem happier like this,” said Chase, “although you can’t actually… talk, so I don’t know how much you actually like it, and how much of it is just you not being able to say that you’re unhappy.”

Anti’s tail swished. 

He wasn’t sure how to respond to that one.

“Still,” said Chase. “It seems like it’d be nice. Like it’d be… simpler. No worrying about so many things. Although then again, what do _you_ worry about in the first place?”

_Plenty of things_ , Anti would have said, although the mostly seemed inconsequential right now.

Right now, it was nice to be close like this.

Without realizing it, Anti was climbing into Chase’s lap, and he had his chin on Chase’s shoulder, his own chest against Chase’s.

“Oh,” said Chase, and he sounded faintly surprised. “You want to cuddle?”

Anti snuggled in, his cheek against Chase’s.

“I know you’re not going to, like, rip my throat open or anything,” Chase said, although he sounded a bit like he was saying it for his own benefit, not because he believed it. “You made a promise, when you first came here.”

Anti’s tail twitched, and his wings extended. 

“But you’re quieter like this,” said Chase, “and I… I worry that I’m just misreading your body language or whatever. That you’re really unhappy. I can’t ever tell when you’re the shape I’m used to, but this is a lot different, y’know?”

And then Anti… changed.

There was no other way to put it.

One minute, he was still a dragon, compact and hot, roughly the size of a cat.

The next, he was his old shape, with a slit throat and weird magic dancing on the edges of his vision.

It didn’t hurt - if it felt like anything, it was a bit like a full body sneeze. 

He flopped back, and he was shaking, staring up at Chase, lying flat on the roof.

“Hi,” said Chase, looking down at Anti.

“I think the spell wore off,” said Anti, lacking anything else to say.

He was already mourning the loss of his wings.

“Evidently,” said Chase. “Do you want to… that is, do you want to go tell everyone else?”

“... can we stay here a little longer, please?”

It wasn’t like Anti to be polite, but, well… it was nice to be quiet for a little bit. 

It was nice to let a little bit of the dragon contentment sink into his bones, until he had to go back to being himself. 

Just for a little bit.

**Author's Note:**

> Like this fic?
> 
> Want me to write you something like it, or something completely different? 
> 
> Come talk to me on my tumblr, theseusinthemaze.tumblr.com!


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